


Oh My God

by placentalmammal



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/F, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 14:25:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4352390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placentalmammal/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>10 of Spades accidentally overhears an intimate encounter between Betsy and the Courier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh My God

It was past midnight, but 10 of Spades still felt the need to check over his shoulder as he ducked into the men’s bathroom. The sight of the dark, still barracks behind him did little to calm his nerves. He reminded himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong, not really, but it was still a relief to lock himself in the stall farthest from the door and pull a magazine from his bag. There was nothing wrong with looking at porn, but he was still fairly certain that he’d catch hell if he ever got caught.

It was with a certain amount of relief that he unbuckled his belt and opened the magazine. He was starting to build up a good rhythm when he was startled by the door banging open. He squeaked nervously and instinctually pulled his feet up onto the seat, wilting boner still in hand. He cursed himself for his jumpiness, but it was too late now.

“See, what’d I tell you? No one here.” Shit. That was Betsy.

“What if there was?” And the Courier. Her tone was light, amused. Spades was trying to figure out what the hell the two of them were doing in the men’s bathroom at one in the morning when Betsy answered for him.

“Then I’d tell them to get the hell out, because I am going to fuck my insanely hot girlfriend’s brains out.”

“And they would leave?” said the Courier archly.

“Bet your sweet ass they would,” Betsy rumbled. 

Spades, balanced awkwardly on the toilet seat, leaned down and watched two pairs of feet walk into one of the other stalls. The lock scraped, and there was a light, breathy moan. “Christ, Betsy, not even gonna wait for me to get my shirt off?”

Betsy’s response was muffled. “I missed you.”

“I missed you and- oh God, that feels good.” More moans.

10 of Spades’ erection returned with a vengeance. He stared at his dick, wondering if it was immoral to masturbate to your spotter’s reunion with her often-absent girlfriend. He decided it was, and then decided he was going to anyway.

Two stalls down, a shirt fluttered to the tile floor. The Courier’s moan turned into a sharp gasp, and then another shirt and a bra joined the shirt already on the floor. Spades closed his eyes and imagined Betsy pinning the Courier against the green dividing wall, attacking the Courier’s neck and breasts with her mouth. He stifled a groan and shifted his weight, trying to find a comfortable position on the toilet seat.

There was a belt being loosened. The buckle clinked against itself, then the floor, and he caught a glimpse of pale breast when Betsy stooped to push the Courier’s pants down. She stepped out of her own pants, then knelt on the floor.

“Spread your legs.” The Courier did as she was told, then gasped.

“F-fuck.” Spades could picture Betsy’s grin as her tongue pressed against the Courier’s clitoris, picture the way the Courier’s face was screwed up in pleasure and the way her nails bit into Betsy’s shoulders. His dick twitched in his hands, and he bit his tongue to keep himself quiet.

Smacking noises filled the air, along with moans and stifled expletives from the Courier. Betsy rubbed herself with one hand as the other caressed the taut muscles of the Courier’s leg. Her moans were building to a crescendo, and she came with a high-pitched moan that pushed 10 of Spades over the edge.

He smiled blissfully and leaned against the wall to watch the two sets of feet trade places. “God, you’re wet.”

“Can’t help it, girl. You’re –oh god right there- too damn hot.”

There was a wet, sucking sound, and Betsy shrieked. A smacking sound, and she screamed again. 10 of Spades had no idea what the Courier was doing, but it sounded exciting. Betsy was certainly enjoying it, whatever it was.

10 of Spades was hard again, and he wished that he could somehow see through the green metal stalls. Betsy interrupted the thought with a string of screams, moans, and curses loud enough to wake the dead. He didn’t hold back when he came again, grunting and moaning and swearing a blue streak.

“Wait, did you hear something?” 10 of Spades froze, the lingering haze of pleasure disappearing immediately.

“Only you yelling loud enough to wake the whole goddamn base. I thought the point of fucking in here was to avoid attention.”

“You like it.” The Courier didn’t answer, and 10 of Spades was pretty sure they were kissing. He breathed a sigh of relief, and then noticed he’d managed to get spunk all over his magazine. He stared at it, dismayed, as the women dressed.

“But seriously Betsy, next time we screw, we screw in a bed.”

“Only private beds are in the casinos. I’m not paying for privacy when there’s a shit ton of bathrooms.” They unlocked the stall, and the feet disappeared into the main part of the bathroom.

The Courier snorted. “You cheap whore. I’ll pay for the goddamn hotel room, then.”

“Yeah, but then we have to go somewhere. If we do that, I can’t just pull you into a closet and take your clothes off.”

“And no more closets, either.”

“You’re no fun.” The door closed behind them, and 10 of Spades let out a long breath. He pulled his pants back up, left the stall, and stuck the magazine into a bin. He wouldn’t be needing that any more. That experience had given him more dirty thoughts than any girlie magazine ever could.

The fact that he’d be jerking off while thinking about a coworker was a small price to pay.


End file.
